The Best Deal
by songofhell
Summary: Dean wants to make a deal to cure Sam of demon blood, but demon he summons is more than he'd bargained for. The King of the Crossroads is different from the average demon, and he has his own ideas where Dean is concerned. (Warning: dub con)
1. King of the Crossroads

Dean scraped the dirt back over the box, then straightened up, looking around the crossroads.

"Hello, darling," a British voice spoke from behind him. Dean spun around to see a man, much shorter than himself, in an expensive black suit, a broad smirk on his fact. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"What happened to the hot chicks?" Dean asked, putting off answering his question.

"With the track record of you and your brother, the average crossroads demon won't do. I decided it'd be best to come myself."

"And what makes you so special?"

"King of the crossroads – all crossroads demons work for me."

"Awesome," Dean muttered. So he wasn't dealing with some weak, idiotic demon here – this could make things more difficult, but he had to try. "I want to make a deal."

"That is generally why people summon me. And let me guess, you want me to cure little Sammy of his addiction to demon blood."

Dean's eyes narrowed, hating how this demon seemed to be a step ahead. "Yeah."

"Fine. But the normal deal isn't going to cut it."

"What? You're cutting down my years again?"

"Not exactly. You've already been to Hell, and honestly, you selling your soul again will be counterproductive to my goals."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Doesn't matter. All that we need to worry about right now is the price."

"Let me guess, you have something in mind?"

"You."

"I thought you said…"

"Not just your soul, all of you. From the moment the deal is closed, you will belong to me."

"Yeah, no deal." Dean shook his head and turned to go, but the demon was instantly in front of him.

"You won't get a better deal, Dean. In fact, no other demons will even deal with you – after all, this deal will put a kink in Lucifer's plans."

Now that caught his attention. "What?"

"Lucifer isn't done with Sam, and your brother being on demon blood makes it that much easier for Satan to get his claws in him."

"And you want to stop him?" Dean asked slowly, trying to see the catch.

"I want to make a deal. I am not a loyalist, and I do not trust any angel, even if he fell. So, do we have a deal?"

Dean hesitated. "What exactly does belonging to you mean?"

"Don't worry, you can still go about your life, killing the things that go bump in the night, so long as I am excluded from that list. If it comes out that I made this deal, my life will be in danger, and I will need you to protect me."

"You want me to be your body guard?"

"More or less. Of course, your soul will be mine as well, but that's a technicality. Serve me well, and you just might get special treatment when you go to Hell. Oh, and there may also be other – services – I require of you."

Dean's stomach clenched. That was what he had been afraid of. "No way," he said, not as firm as he would have liked.

"Really?" The demon took a step closer, far too close for comfort, but Dean was determined not to back away. "So you would rather your brother feed his addiction so that Lucifer can get ahold of him and use him, all to cling to your claimed sexuality."

"It's not…" Dean was struggling to come up with an argument.

"Dean," he spoke softly, reaching a hand out to rest on Dean's hip. "This is the best deal _anyone_ has ever gotten. A cured brother, full life, VIP pass to Hell, all in exchange for something that you may even enjoy. I want you to enjoy it."

Dean's heart was hammering as he thought it over, unable to believe that he was actually considering having sex with a male demon, one who was currently being a bit distracting as his thumb rubbed circles on his hip. "Can I at least get your name?" Dean asked, his throat tight.

"Once you've earned it."

Dean nodded. "Fine. Deal."

The demon raised his other hand, cupping the back of Dean's head as he pulled him down into a kiss. Dean submitted to him, allowing him to push his tongue into his mouth as his hand slid from his hip around to his ass, pulling his body against him. After a few tugs to his hair and it was made clear that there would be no relenting until he did, Dean returned to kiss, his hands resting awkwardly on the other man's waist as his lips moved tentatively against his, eliciting a hum of approval from the demon.

When the kiss was finally broken, Dean looked around in surprise to see that they were now in a lavishly furnished bedroom. "Where the hell are we?" he demanded.

"My place. I didn't fancy having sex on the ground."

Dean instinctively tried to take a step back, but he was held firmly in place.

"You agreed."

"Doesn't mean I like it. Cure Sam first."

"Already done, dear. Now it's your turn to fulfill your part of the deal."

"Can't we… work our way up to it."

"Oh, I assure you, there will be foreplay."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know, but…" He pressed his lips to Dean's neck, causing the hunter to shudder slightly. "I want you now." He finally dropped his arms and took a step back. "If you are so against sex tonight, then at least let me put that mouth of yours to the test."

Dean did a quick assessment of what was worse, sucking a demon's cock or being split open by one – definitely the latter – then got to his knees.

"Dean Winchester on his knees for me. That is just _gorgeous."_ He walked over and sat on the foot of the bed, motioning for Dean to move in front of him. "Carry on, then."

Dean's hands were shaking as he reached up, unfastening the demon's belt and pants as a surprisingly gentle hand ran through his hair. He pulled his pants and underwear off, along with his shoes, and then settled between his legs, vaguely wondering if this demon had purposely possessed someone with the biggest cock he could find.

He took a deep breath, feeling the hand tighten in his hair just slightly, then wrapped his lips around the tip of his cock, slowly moving down and taking more in. He heard a shuddering breath above him and felt a burst of confidence – he knew what constituted a good blow job, he could please him, and then maybe he'd be done for the night. He took as much of him as he could before pulling back, swirling his tongue around the head. He rested his hands on the demon's hips as he moved his mouth along his shaft, implementing everything that had always successfully driven him crazy. And judging by the sounds the other man was making, it certainly seemed to be working.

Eventually, the hand on his head began to apply pressure, encouraging him to take more in. Dean tried to pull back, but the pressure just increased until he took in half of the remaining length of shaft and then gagged. The demon groaned loudly, but allowed him to pull back. Dean gasped for air, concentrating on himself for the first time and realizing just how hard he had gotten. How the hell was _this_ turning him on?

"You can switch to your hand if you want a break." His voice was low and lustful and it only made Dean harder. He didn't answer, just took him into his mouth again, groaning around his cock.

He let himself get into it now, palming himself through his jeans, as he took him in until he gagged again. Each time he managed to go further, until he took him in completely, eliciting a moan that Dean couldn't believe he had caused such a powerful demon to make. He began applying more pressure to his own aching cock as he tongue swirled around the demon's shaft.

Suddenly, he was pulled back by the hair and he looking up into dark eyes that slowly trailed down his body to the obvious bulge in his jeans. "Get on the bed, on your hands and knees."

Dean hesitated a fraction of a second before doing as he was told. He wasn't ready for this, there was no way he was going to be able to take his cock, but he needed some relief. As soon as he was in position, his clothes disappeared and then he felt two lubed fingers slide into him.

He moaned as he was stretched, the fingers pumping and scissoring inside him, as gradually more were added. And then there was nothing and he gave a small whine at how empty he felt. Then he felt the demon's cock pressed against his entrance, and he remembered his fears. He tried to pull away, but he was held in place by the hips.

"Relax," the demon leaned forward and breathed in his ear. "You'll like this."

Dean tried to do as he was told as the demon pressed into him with a groan, slowly filling him. Dean moaned in a combination of pleasure and pain, and he found himself pressing back into the demon as the pleasure took over.

He was surprisingly gentle at first, moving slowly, giving Dean time to adjust to his size. Then he gradually began to increase in speed, his thrusts becoming a bit more forceful. Dean didn't mind, though. His head was spinning with pleasure, completely forgetting that he didn't even want to be enjoying this.

The demon came first, then wrapped his hand around Dean's cock, helping him to completion. Dean moaned loudly as he came all over the demon's hand and his own stomach. He had a few moments to catch his breath before the demon pulled out of him and nudged at Dean to get him to roll over.

Dean did as he was told, laying down on his back and looking up at the man above him, unsure of what to think now. He watched the other's eyes move over his body before he ducked down, licking the cum off Dean's stomach. He bit his tongue to keep himself from groaning, quickly shifting his focus to stare at the ceiling. The demon chuckled as he pulled back, seemingly knowing exactly what was going through Dean's head as he laid down beside him.

"Now, was that so bad?" he murmured.

Dean hesitated, not wanting to admit just how much he had enjoyed that. This guy was a _demon._ A _male demon._ There was no way he should, in any way, enjoy having sex with him. "I'm straight, and I was just fucked by a demon. What do you think?" he demanded, avoiding the question.

He rolled his eyes. "Who are you trying to convince with that statement?"

"I'm not trying to convince anyone of anything. I was just answering your question."

"Well, if you didn't enjoy that, you sure have an interesting way of showing it."

"I did what I had to do." And surely that was all it was, right? He found the pleasure in it to distract himself from what he was doing.

"Oh, you did far more than that. You were amazing, Dean."

"Great, a demon thinks I'm amazing," Dean muttered. "So, do I get your name now?"

"Not quite yet. You need to prove yourself in other ways first."

"And how do I need to do that?" he asked irritably, dreading the answer.

"You'll see when it happens."

"Fine. So, what now?"

"I'll send you back to your newly clean brother and call on you whenever I need you."

"That's it?"

"I told you, Dean. Normal life. I do want to make one thing perfectly clear, though. You belong to me. If anyone else touches you, they will be killed, and you will be punished. Understood?"

Dean knew he shouldn't be surprised by that, but it still wasn't pleasant to hear. "Yeah, understood. I'm your property and you don't like sharing."

The demon smirked. "Good boy." He leaned in and kissed him.


	2. Crowley

"Oh, come on!" Dean growled, slamming his palm against the TV. All he needed in a motel was a bed to sleep on and something to get his mind off of how fucked his life was. And this room only had sorry excuse for a bed and a TV that wouldn't work, no matter what he did. He supposed that was his luck.

"Trouble?"

He spun around in alarm, his hand flying to his gun before he registered who was sitting on the bed, wearing the same black suit he had been wearing when they had met. Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse.

"What do you want?" Dean growled.

The demon's eyes narrowed. "First, for you to mind your manners and remember who you're talking to." He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Dean ground his teeth together in frustration. "Sorry," he spat.

"I suppose that'll have to do for now." He glanced around the room with distaste. "Where's your darling brother?"

"He's done – left the life."

"And you let him?"

Dean hesitated. This guy was the last person he wanted to talk to about this, but he had to get it off his chest. "Things are different now. I'm too worried about him to focus on anything else."

"And so, of course, instead of being there for him, the best solution is to kick him to the curb."

It took all of Dean's willpower not to punch the smirk right off the bastard's face. "You have no right to say that."

He held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. "You're right. Hell, you did every demon in existence a favor, so I suppose I shouldn't complain."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Dean snapped.

"Well, you're not near as much of a threat on your own. And as for little Sammy…"

"You know what? You may own me, but I don't have to listen to this. So just fuck me and get out. I'm assuming that's why you're here, after all."

"Actually, I'm here for your own wellbeing."

"Really?" Dean asked skeptically.

"You're living off of cheap beer and fast food, sleeping in a room that is hardly fit for the cockroaches in its walls. It's not good for you."

"Yeah, well hunting isn't exactly a well-paying job. This is the best I can afford."

The demon rose to his feet, taking a few steps towards Dean. "Lucky for you, I can afford anything you could ever wish for."

"How is that lucky for me?"

"Have you always been this thick? You are mine, I like for my things to be taken care of. So, take this." He handed Dean a black credit card. "And go get the nicest room at the nicest hotel you can find – there is no limit. I'll worry about stocking your fridge."

Dean's wide eyes rose from the card to the demon's eyes. "Are you serious?" he asked slowly, without any of the usual snark.

"Of course." He pressed his lips briefly to Dean's. "See you soon." Before Dean could say another word, he disappeared.

So half an hour later found Dean in the penthouse of a ritzy hotel, sipping on some expensive scotch.

"It's not bad," he admitted.

"It's the best."

Dean looked at the demon curiously over the top of his glass. "Why are you doing this?" he eventually asked.

"I told you. I like my things to be taken care of."

"Yeah, but… isn't this a bit over the top for your sex slave?" As much as he didn't like that title, it was awfully accurate.

"Not when that sex slave is you. I like you, Dean. I think you have potential, and I want to feed that potential."

"Potential for what?"

"That remains to be seen. At the moment, though, I am a bit ashamed to admit that you are the best sex I have ever had. I think that deserves special treatment."

Dean blushed slightly. "Well, I guess I can't complain."

"Good. I hate complaining."

Dean chuckled, shaking his head slightly. Honestly, this deal really wasn't that bad, and that worried him. Surely there had to be some sort of catch, right? Aside from just sex. And admittedly, waking up the next morning with a demon's arms wrapped around him was a bit disconcerting, but at least he knew he wasn't going to hurt him. And it was completely worth it when he got out of the shower to see a complete breakfast prepared for him, a note sitting beside his plate that simply said, _'See you soon.'_

As time went on it got harder not to admit that he did enjoy the sex. It had gotten to the point that at times he found himself wishing he could call the demon and ask him to come over.

"Dean?" Sam's voice brought him from his thoughts. They had started hunting together again, which meant that Dean had to give up the nice hotels – after all, there was no way he was ever admitting to Sam what he had done. He was still able to make life a bit better for them, though; he just couldn't make him too suspicious.

"What?"

"Ellen and Jo said they'd help us get into Crowley's." Right, Crowley, the demon who had the colt, who he was _supposed_ to be thinking about right now.

"Good. So we get in, trap him, and torture him until he gives up the colt. Piece of cake."

"You really think he still has it?"

"Let's hope so."

Getting in went as well as they could have hoped, they even had plenty of time to draw the devil's trap on the underside of the rug before Crowley found them. Sam stood with the knife ready, and Dean with his gun, then a figure rounded the corner and Dean's eyes grew wide. Shit.

"It's Crowley, right?" Sam asked as Dean was still processing. _He_ was Crowley, his demon, he'd had the colt all along. What was he playing at?

"So," Crowley spoke, his gaze flickering over Dean with a trace of amusement in his eyes. "The Hardy Boys finally found me. Took you long enough." He glanced down at the rug and picked up the corner, glancing at the trap underneath before glaring up at them. "Do you have any idea how much this rug cost?"

Dean was already lowing his gun slightly when he was suddenly grabbed from behind by another demon. A glance to his side showed that Sam had been grabbed to. He turned his gaze back to Crowley in time to see him pull out the colt.

"This is it, right? This is what it's all about." He aimed the gun at Dean, and for a second he thought that he really was going to shoot him – punishment for coming after him, even though he had had no idea that it was him. But then he shifted his aim slightly and shot the demon holding him, and then the one that had Sam. "We need to talk. Privately."

Dean's mind was still spinning as he and Sam followed Crowley into another room. "What the hell is this?" he demanded.

"Do you know how deep I could have buried this thing?" He held up the colt as he waved a hand to shut the door. "There's no reason you or anyone should know this even exists, except that I told you."

"You told us," Sam said skeptically.

"Rumors, innuendo, sent out on the grapevine."

"Why? Why tell us anything?"

Crowley once again aimed the colt at Dean's head, amusement still sparkling in his eyes, and this time Dean knew that he was safe. "I want you to take this thing to Lucifer and empty it into his face."

Well, that was unexpected. Dean remembered Crowley saying that he wasn't a loyalist, but he still had never thought that he wanted Lucifer dead. "Uh-huh, okay, and why exactly would you want the devil dead?"

"It's called survival," Crowley said as he set the gun down on his desk. "Well, I forgot you two at best are functioning morons-"

Dean bristled at the insult, somehow feeling that it was more directed at him. "You're functioning… morons-on…" Okay, maybe he should just stop talking.

Crowley threw him a withering look before continuing. "Lucifer isn't a demon, remember? He's an angel. An angel famous for his hatred of humankind. To him, you're just filthy bags of pus. If that's the way he feels about you, what can he think about us?"

"But he created you," Sam pointed out.

"To him, we're just servants. Cannon fodder. If Lucifer manages to exterminate humankind, we're next. So, help me, huh? Let's all go back to simpler, better times, back to when we could all follow our natures. I'm in sales, dammit! So what do you say if I give you this thing, and you go kill the devil?" He picked up the colt again and held it out to Sam.

Sam hesitated, then took it. "Great."

"Great."

"You wouldn't happen to know where the devil is, by chance, would you?"

"Thursday, birdies tell me, there's an appointment in Carthage, Missouri."

"Great." Sam raised the gun to Crowley's head, and before Dean could stop him, pulled the trigger. But there was nothing, Crowley just stared impassively at Sam.

"Oh, yeah, right, you'll probably need some more ammunition." He walked around behind his desk and pulled open a drawer.

Dean really hated how much he admired him sometimes. "Oh, uh, excuse me for asking, but aren't you kind of signing your own death warrant? I mean, what happens to you if we go up against the devil and lose?" And more importantly, why was he worried about that?

"Number one, he's going to wipe us all out anyway. Two, after you leave here, I go on an extended vacation to all points nowhere. And three, how about you don't miss, okay! Morons!"

He threw Dean the ammunition and then disappeared.

"Well… that was unexpected," Sam muttered.

"Yeah…" Crowley…. Well, at least he had a name now. He tried to suppress a grin as he turned to go.


	3. Ally

"The next time I see Crowley, I'm going to kill him!"

"Yeah, if Lucifer doesn't kill him first," Dean interjected. "Sam, I don't think he knew the colt wouldn't work."

"Of course he knew, why else would he give it to us? This is the first time what he did makes any sense. We should have known better. No demon would want us to kill the devil."

"I don't know… Lucifer seemed pretty surprised about us having it."

That night he told Sam that he just needed to get away for a bit, claiming that he was going to a bar. Instead he went to a nice hotel, collapsing on the bed with some expensive brand of beer. He was beginning to wonder what would happen to him if Crowley was killed. Would he just be free? Or would the deal reverse so that Sam would start craving demon blood again? More than ever, he wished he had a way to get ahold of him.

There was a sudden thud and he looked up in surprise to see Crowley on his hands and knees in the middle of the room. "Crowley!" Dean rushed to his side. The demon's clothing was ripped and stained with blood, and he had a particularly bad gash on his neck. "What happened to you?"

"What do you think?" he gasped.

Dean reached down and tried to gently help him to his feet. "Come on, let's get you to the bed."

It took a little bit, but Dean managed to lay Crowley down on the bed and get a proper look at his injuries. It looked worse than it was, but that didn't mean that it wasn't still pretty bad.

"Careful, darling," Crowley spoke in strained voice. "I might start to think you care."

"Shut up," Dean said, almost like an automatic reflex. It certainly had no effect on the worry in his eyes.

"Don't worry, demons heal quickly."

"I don't suppose there's anything that can be done to speed the process along?"

"Really, Dean? You know how to deal with injuries better than most."

"I'm just making sure that there's no special ointment for demons or anything like that."

"Do you hear yourself when you speak?"

"Do you want me to help you or not?" Dean challenged.

Crowley stopped talking, so Dean got his first aid kit and started patching Crowley up. "Never thought I'd do this to a demon," he commented as he worked.

"I bet you've done a lot of things with me you never thought you'd do with a demon."

"True." He was silent for a few minutes before he spoke again. "Why did you never tell me?"

"Who I was? That I had the colt? I wanted you to figure it out for yourself. Prove that the man lives up to the legend."

"Yeah, because that worked out so well."

"There should really be a disclaimer on that gun."

"Tell me about it."

Crowley was silent for a few seconds before he spoke up again. "Which of you pulled the trigger?"

"I did."

Crowley nodded, seemingly far away in his thoughts. "I'm glad you're alright," he eventually said.

Dean wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he changed the subject. "Sam thinks you set us up. He wants you dead."

"Thanks for the heads up."

"All done," Dean said as he put the materials he'd been using down on the bedside table.

"Thank you, Dean," Crowley said softly, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.

Dean looked down at him, and before he thought about what he was doing, he leaned down and pressed his lips to his softly. Of course, he had kissed Crowley quite a few times since they had sealed their deal, but he had never been the one to initiate it. He felt Crowley go still in surprise for a moment before he returned the kiss.

Dean pulled away after a minute, realization of what he had just done sinking in. Crowley was most definitely going to use that against him.

"As much as I would love to continue," Crowley spoke up. "We should probably wait until I'm healed up a bit."

"Right," Dean muttered, looking away.

Crowley chuckled. "There's no need to be embarrassed, sweetheart. You were bound to give in eventually."

"I'm not giving into anything," he protested.

"Of course not."

Dean stood from the chair he had been sitting in. "I'm going to get another beer. Want anything?"

"Scotch."

Dean nodded as he walked out of the room, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. He returned a minute later, setting the scotch down beside Crowley before walking around and reclaiming his seat on the other side of the bed.

"Dean?"

"Hm?" Dean hummed as he took a drink.

"Did you come here hoping I would find you?"

Dean blushed. "I just wanted to know if you were still alive. Figured this was the only way I might find out."

"You could always ask for my number, if you would like."

He hesitated, not wanting to admit how often he had wished he had it. "It might make things easier…."

"Well then, my number is now in your phone. Feel free to call whenever you desire my company."

"That's never."

"I think we both know that's a lie." He turned to the side and pressed his lips against Dean's neck. "I do wish you would be honest," he breathed in his ear. "Both with me and with yourself."

Dean didn't say anything. A part of him knew that Crowley was right, but it cost him too much to admit it. So instead he just tilted his head to the side, moaning softly when Crowley bit down on his neck.

Crowley sighed as he pulled away. "One day, perhaps."

 _Doubtful,_ Dean thought to himself.

"At least I know I can count on you. We will find a way to stop the devil, Dean, and it will require all of us."

"That's the real reason you made this deal, isn't it?"

"I'm glad you can put two and two together."

"Yeah, well, I don't know if you noticed, but our one hope didn't exactly pan out."

"Everything has a weakness – Satan included – and we will find it."

"Nice thought," Dean sighed. "But it's really just a matter of time till the end of the world."

"I refuse to believe that. I don't do being on the losing side." Crowley's tone seemed to suggest that that was reason enough not to question their likelihood of success. And sure, Dean would admit that determination can go a long way, but it can't work miracles.

"We're not much of a side. There's, what? Five of us? Yeah, that should be enough to stop the devil and all the demons loyal to him. Oh, and that's without taking into account that I'm the only one that actually counts you as an ally."

"Yes, you are going to have to keep your brother from killing me the next time we work together."

"There isn't going to be a next time! There is no more hope." Dean didn't think he could afford to hope anymore; he was sick of disappointment. No, it was time to be realistic about this – the world was going to end, and there was nothing that they could do to stop it.

"You're wrong."

"What's this big, master plan of yours, then?"

"You are. You and your brother will fight for this world till your last breath. You don't see it now, but you'll figure something out, and when you do, I'll be there."

"I think your pain is making you delusional."

"Then maybe you should shut up and let me rest," Crowley snapped, clearly tired of arguing. His words spurred another thought in Dean's mind, though, and he decided that now was as good of a time as any to ask.

"Okay, that's something I've been wondering about. You've slept many of the times we've been together, but I didn't think demons needed to sleep."

"We don't, but we can. It's nice on occasion, to get a break from the world – especially when injured," he added pointedly.

"A break," Dean scoffed. "I'll take it you don't dream, then."

"Nope."

"Lucky you," he sighed.

Crowley looked over at him curiously. "What do you dream about, Dean?"

"None of your business," he snapped, suddenly no longer feeling like talking.

"Everything concerning you is my business."

"Not this."

"Hmmm… I'm sure I could guess."

It was a minute before Dean said anything. "Probably," he finally muttered.

"It will be different next time," he spoke softly. "I won't let anyone lay a hand on you."

Dean didn't want to admit how grateful he was, so he remained silent as he let Crowley snake an arm around his waist and pull him to his side. He curled into the demon's side and let his eyes drift shut. Crowley's embrace had become familiar, comfortable, and he would never admit it, but for the first time since he had come back from Hell, he had no nightmares that night.

Crowley was significantly better the next morning, almost completely recovered, and ready to take advantage of that. As soon as Dean woke up, Crowley was on top of him, kissing and biting at every bit of exposed skin he could find. And, having been craving this for far too long, Dean couldn't even bring himself to seem reluctant, gripping Crowley tightly and moaning his name as he came.

Crowley breathed in a deep breath as his lips ghosted along Dean's neck. "You should have told me why you wanted to know my name so badly. I might have told you, had I known."

Dean glared at the ceiling, angry with himself for the slip. "I was just trying to do what you wanted," he said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, Dean, you are always so good at doing what I want, but I don't think that's what that was."

"Well, you're wrong."

"Whatever makes you feel better." He kissed him briefly before getting out of bed. "I'm going to go into hiding. Call me once you have a plan for ending the devil once and for all."

"That's not going to happen," Dean sighed, but Crowley was already gone.

And sure enough, the bastard was right. A month later, Dean was calling him to tell him about the horsemen's rings.

"I told you you could do it," Crowley said smugly.

"Yeah, well, we still need two more rings," Dean pointed out.

"Sounds like you'll need my help."

"You know how to get them?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"You'll need an excuse as to how you know about this."

"Already have one. I'll meet you and Samantha tomorrow. Think you can wait till then?"

No. It had taken all of Dean's self-respect not to call Crowley before now, to ask him to come and meet him at a hotel. How was he so hung up over a demon? "Why wouldn't I be able to?"

"Because the need in your voice is practically tangible."

"You think too highly of yourself."

"Doesn't mean it's not true. I promise, tomorrow I will fuck you into the mattress of the first hotel we come to."

Dean bit his lip, already feeling arousal stirring inside him. "I figured as much," he said, trying to control his voice.

Crowley chuckled. "See you tomorrow, darling."


	4. Partner

"You are gorgeous, Dean," Crowley mused, running a hand over the hunter's bare chest. They had been on there way to grab a demon who worked for the horsemen, but when Crowley mentioned that they had time to make a pit-stop, Dean didn't give it much thought before finding the nearest hotel.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Thanks, I guess." He rested his hand on Crowley's arm, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb along his skin. "Can I ask you something?" he asked after a minute.

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Depends on what it is."

"When we made our deal… why did you ask for this?"

"As I said, you selling your soul would have been counterproductive. I needed your focus on fighting Lucifer, not on finding a way out of our deal, like you attempted with Lilith. And I also knew that I would become a target, so I needed you to protect me. And the only way to ensure that was for you to be under my control. As for the sex… so long as you belong to me, I intend to have fun with it. Can you really blame me?"

Dean chuckled. "I guess not."

"Really?" Crowley asked with interest.

"Shut up."

"I told you you'd like this deal."

"Yeah, well, don't tell me you're not enjoying this more than you thought you would."

"Oh, I'm not denying anything. You are amazing, Dean. This is the best deal I've ever made." He brushed a hand against Dean's cheek, prompting him to look up so that he could press his lips against his. Dean returned the kiss deeply, rolling over so that he was straddling the demon.

It was several minutes before Dean broke the kiss, his hands pausing their exploration of Crowley's sides. "How much time do we have?" he asked breathlessly.

Crowley glanced at the clock. "Less than I would like. We should get going."

Dean sighed as he got to his feet, looking around for wherever his clothes had ended up. Crowley sat up on the bed, watching the hunter thoughtfully. "Is it just me, or are you disappointed that we don't have more time together?"

Dean didn't look at him as he pulled on his boxers. "Like you don't already know the answer to that."

"Maybe I want to hear you say it."

Dean didn't respond as he searched the area around the bed, finally looking at Crowley when he came up empty handed. "What the hell did you do with my pants?"

"You took your own pants off, darling. I think you tossed them somewhere in that direction." He motioned vaguely toward the door.

"Oh… right," Dean muttered sheepishly as he moved to look where Crowley had indicated. He located his pants and pulled them on, then found his shirt thrown carelessly over a chair. Once he got everything on, he turned around to see Crowley standing right behind him, already fully dressed.

"Dean, I would like an answer," he said softly.

"You don't always get what you want." Dean started to turn away, but Crowley caught his arm.

"It's a simple question."

"But that's not what you're really asking. You don't want to know if I'm disappointed about not having time for another round, you know that I am. No, you want to know if it's more than that, and I don't have an answer for you, Crowley. Now, you said that we have to go, so let's go."

Crowley, for once, was speechless as he looked at Dean, and Dean looked determinedly back at him. After a few seconds, the demon sighed and released Dean's arm. "You're right." He motioned toward the door. "After you."

It was thanks to Crowley that they were able to take out Pestilence the next day. He got the horseman's location from the demon, Brady, and then proceeded to save them all from a hell hound. Sam may not want to admit it, but Dean knew that they wouldn't have been able to do it without him.

Now all that they were left with was Death, and then Lucifer, himself. Dean wasn't going to say it aloud, but he wasn't all that confident in their chances, especially with the potential spread of the Croatoan virus that Sam, Cas, and Bobby were left to stop. Of course, they had the easy job – Crowley had chosen to partner with him again to take on the task of killing Death to collect the final horseman's ring. At least Crowley had just happened to have the one thing that could kill Death, but Dean still had to get close enough to him to use it.

"Is there any chance that we're going to succeed here?" he muttered as they drove into Chicago.

"You are horribly pessimistic, squirrel," Crowley sighed.

"Well, we're about to take on Death, what am I supposed to think?" Dean snapped.

"You have his scythe; you can kill him."

"Yeah, but he's freakin' _Death."_

"And you're Dean Winchester."

He rolled his eyes, not reassured by that in the slightest. "You've got an awful lot of faith in me."

"I know what you're capable of; it's why I bought you."

"Oh, great. Way to make me feel like a piece of property."

"Well…" A small smirk tugged at the demon's lips.

"Let me guess, I'm your property." He shook his head, but his lips were pulling up into a slightly amused smile. "Should I get a 'Property of Crowley' tramp stamp?"

Crowley chuckled. "Would you, if I asked?"

"Hell no," Dean scoffed.

"I thought not," he sighed. "I could make you, of course."

"But you won't."

"You're confident."

"And you're going soft."

Crowley shifted in his seat, looking at the hunter with raised eyebrows. "That's a bold claim, Winchester."

Dean shrugged. "When's the last time you actually used our deal to make me do something I didn't want to?"

"Well, I haven't had to, have I?"

"Oh, there've been a few times that I've said no and you didn't push it."

"Then clearly those things weren't that important to me."

"Hmm…" Dean hummed thoughtfully. "Or I'm growing on you."

Crowley scoffed, crossing his arms as he turned to look out the window.

Dean smirked triumphantly. "Does the King of the Crossroads have a soft spot for a hunter?"

Crowley was silent for a few seconds, and Dean caught the reflection of his glare in the side window. "I believe that we should be focusing on Death, should we not?"

Dean chuckled. "Sure thing, sweetheart. Tell me where I'm going." Well, at least that was one battle that he could win today… more or less.

But as it turned out, it wasn't the only one. Taking on Death turned out to be not near as big of a deal as Dean had expected it to be. Death wanted Dean to stop Lucifer and simply handed over his ring. Of course, there was always a price.

"I can't do it."

"Dean, you promised Death, you can't go back on that."

Crowley had come to visit him at Bobby's that night; they were sitting out in the junkyard, on the hood of a broken-down car, sharing a bottle of Scotch.

Dean shook his head, looking hopelessly down at his half-empty glass. "This whole mess… all I've ever wanted is to protect Sam, and now I'm supposed to just let him die?"

"I'm sorry," Crowley's voice was soft, almost sincere. "But Death is right. I don't know how else we're supposed to get Lucifer to just step into the cage unless Sam is the one pulling the strings."

"And you think he can just overpower Satan?" He looked up at Crowley uncertainly.

"One thing I've learned is to never underestimate you boys. I don't know how much your brother is capable of, but if I were the devil, I'd be worried."

Dean nodded thoughtfully as he finished off his glass. "So what am I supposed to do?"

Crowley snapped his fingers and the empty glasses disappeared. "Let him make his own decision. He's a big boy."

"He'll want to do it."

"I know."

Dean sighed. "Everyone keeps telling me the same thing, and I'm suddenly feeling like I don't have much of a choice." And there really was only one choice – he knew that, as much as he didn't want to admit it. He jumped off the hood of the car and turned to Crowley. "Well, Crowley, it was nice knowing you. See you at the end of the world, or in Hell, whatever comes first."

Crowley slid off the hood of the car, resting his hands on Dean's waist. "If you die, someone will have Hell to pay. Look out of yourself, okay?"

"What? The insurance policy you took out on me expire, or something?"

"Shut up." Crowley's eyes were blazing with intensity as they looked up into Dean's. "You were right. I see now how I made a mistake in getting close to you, but it's too late to do anything about that. I just need you to make it out alive tomorrow. Whatever the cost."

Dean licked his lips as he leaned down, resting his forehead against Crowley's. "Crowley, I…"

"Don't say it," he demanded sharply.

"What?"

"Don't say those words because you think it'll be the last time you have to tell me. I will _not_ be left with that in my memory of you. I'd much rather pretend you hate me because that I can live with. Not whatever this is."

"So if I do make it back?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. And I do mean when, because you _are_ coming back."

Dean nodded, breathing in a deep breath. "Stay out of harm's way until this is all over."

"I will."

Dean pressed his lips to Crowley's before stepping back. They stayed looked at each other for just a moment longer before Crowley gave him a small smile and then disappeared with a snap of his fingers.


	5. Love

Dean didn't know what had felt worse – holding his brother's dead body in his arms or knowingly driving him to his death. Of course, this time it was Sam's choice, it was probably the only way to beat Satan, but… Dean still couldn't come to terms with the fact that he was letting this happen.

"This thing goes our way and I… Trible Lindy into that box…" Sam started hesitantly. "Y-You know I'm not coming back."

"Yeah, I'm aware," Dean said heavily.

"So you got to promise me something."

"Okay. Yeah. Anything." If his brother had a last request, how could he deny him that? It was something that he would be able to hold onto until he found a way to save him.

"You got to promise not to try to bring me back."

His stomach dropped. "What? No, I didn't sign up for that!"

"Dean-"

"Your Hell is gonna make my tour look like Graceland. You want me just to sit by and do nothing?"

"Once the Cage is shut, you can't go poking at it, Dean. It's too risky."

"No, no, no, no, no. As if I'm just gonna let you rot in there."

"Yeah, you are. You don't have a choice."

Dean couldn't accept that. He had brought Sam back before and he could do it again. Sure, this time would be more difficult, but he didn't care, he needed his brother. "You can't ask me to do this."

"I'm sorry, Dean. You have to."

"So then what am I supposed to do?"

"Settle down. I know you're seeing someone, you're not very subtle." Dean felt his cheeks turn pink – just when he had thought this conversation couldn't take an even worse turn. "You quit the life and you settle down with them. You have barbecues and go to football games. You go live some normal, apple-pie life, Dean. Promise me."

"I-I can't do that." Even aside from letting Sam rot in the pit, the idea of suggesting an apple-pie life to Crowley was laughable, regardless of how Dean felt for him.

"Yes, you can."

"No, Sammy, you don't understand…"

"Are you going to try to tell me you're not seeing someone?"

"I… no, but I can't live that life with them."

"Sure, you can. You're obviously pretty crazy about them to even attempt a relationship. And, I mean, I understand you not telling me about them – you didn't want to mess it up. But things can be different now."

Dean hesitated, processing what Sam had said. "You keep saying 'them'… Is there a reason you're not saying 'her'?"

"Well… you said 'them' too, Dean…"

They were both silent for a few seconds. "How long have you known?" Dean eventually asked.

"I've, um, had my suspicions for a while."

Dean nodded. "Awesome… A while, is that, like, a month, a year…?"

"It's been a few years."

 _"_ _A few…_ Come on, Sam, there's no way you could've… I mean, _I_ didn't even…"

"Dean, does it really matter?" Sam asked with a small smile.

Dean sighed. "No, I guess not…"

"So… do I get to know his name?"

Dean really wished that he could tell Sam the truth. After all, this could be one of the last conversations that they would ever be able to have together, if Sam got his way… but he really didn't want it to end in a fight. There was no way that Sam would accept what Dean felt for Crowley. Hell, Dean almost didn't accept it, himself. He just couldn't end things like that.

"I'm sorry, I just… don't think I can tell you."

Sam looked as though he was about to argue, but then seemed to think better of it. It looked like they were in agreement on avoiding a fight. "Fine. Just promise me you'll go to him when this is all over."

Dean only hesitated a second before nodding. "Fine, I promise." He hadn't said anything about a normal life that time, and Dean had no problem going to Crowley, so long as that was all he was agreeing to.

And Dean kept his promise. He drove away from Stull Cemetery, where he had just watched his brother die, said goodbye to Castiel, and called Crowley.

"Dean?" Crowley answered his phone.

"It's finished." He tried to inject some feeling into his voice, but it still came out monotone.

He heard Crowley's sigh of relief. "Good. How are you doing?"

"I need to see you."

"Of course. Where?"

He pulled into the parking lot of a nice hotel, reading off the name to Crowley. A moment later, the demon was in the seat beside him as he shut off the car. He had intended to get out of the car and go into the hotel, but instead he found himself squeezing his eyes shut and resting his forehead against the steering wheel.

"I don't know where to go from here," he muttered.

"Vegas? Isn't that where humans normally go to make mistakes big enough to distract them from their problems?"

Dean actually managed to scoff. "My trips to Vegas normally involve picking up chicks, and it's not like I can do that."

Crowley hesitated. "Yes, you can."

Dean looked up at him in surprise. "What?"

"Our deal was contingent upon Sam being clean of demon blood. In order to be a vessel for Lucifer, he had to start drinking it again. Therefore, the deal is broken."

"You have got to be kidding me. The deal was to get rid of his addiction – it wasn't his addiction that made him start drinking it again. And you, King of the Crossroads, are just _letting_ me out of my deal for that?"

"Yes." Crowley fixed him with a determined gaze. "The deal is off, Dean. And before you ask; no, I wouldn't do this for anyone else, but you already knew that. I've torn up your contract, there's no going back."

"Alright, so answer me this. Are you doing this because you care so much for me that you can't bear to keep me in an unfair deal? Or is it because you care so much for me that you don't want to be around me?"

"Both." He pushed his door open. "Goodbye, Dean."

Dean jumped out of the car and sprinted around, reaching the other side just as Crowley shut the door. _"Don't you dare disappear on me now,"_ he growled. "I just lost everything, and now you're leaving too?"

"I'm a demon, I'm not a very good support system."

"I don't care! You talked me into letting Sam do this, you _owe_ me!"

"And I gave you your freedom. I think that should be sufficient."

"Well, it's not."

"Well, I'm sorry, Dean. I'm not sure if you realize this, but I'm not exactly relationship material."

"Neither am I! Why can't we try?" A day ago the idea of a relationship with Crowley had seemed ridiculous to him, but now that he was faced with the demon leaving, he realized that it was exactly what he wanted.

Crowley blinked in surprise. "Wait… you actually _do_ want a relationship?"

"What did you think I wanted?"

"I don't know… nothing that serious. That's why I said it – I thought it was a joke."

"Hilarious," Dean snapped, glaring at the demon.

Crowley sighed. "Dean, I… I don't know. Are you seeing something I don't? Because I can't imagine how a relationship between us can possibly end well."

"And that means it's not even worth a shot?" Dean took a step forward, resting his hands on Crowley's waist. "Crowley, I-"

 _"_ _Please,_ don't say it."

 _"_ _I love you."_

Crowley grimaced as he turned his face away from Dean. "Thanks so much."

"Hey, you wanted me to say it once."

"Yeah, and then I thought better of it."

"Well, now you can't pretend you don't know the truth."

"And how exactly do you imagine that that will change anything?"

"For one, you haven't left yet."

Dean could practically see Crowley internally fighting for the determination to leave, but he still remained where he was. Dean smirked. "See."

"Okay, so I don't want to leave. That still doesn't mean that this is a good idea. Even aside from how stupid of a choice it would be on my part, you can't honestly think it would be a good idea for you to date a demon. It would be holding you back from who you are."

"Oh yeah, cause dating the freakin' King of the Crossroads would have no bene…" Dean trailed off, his expression suddenly far away.

"Dean?"

Dean's focus returned to Crowley, his lips turned up in a hopeful smile. "Okay, fine, forget dating, I want to make another deal."

"You are unbelievable! You're so desperate that you're trying to buy me now?"

"Nope, I just found something I want. Bring Sam back."

"Bring…? Dean, he's in the _cage!"_

"So? There has to be a way, right?"

Crowley groaned, running a hand over his face. "Maybe… if I'm _very_ lucky."

"Then same terms as before. Bring Sam back and you get me."

Crowley's lips quirked up. "You know, I don't normally accept deals where the person I'm dealing with _likes_ the price they're paying."

"You want to renegotiate?"

"No." He lifted his hand, running his fingers through Dean's hair. "At least this way I can pretend it's for a purpose, right?"

"It's a win-win," Dean agreed.

"That it is."

"So it's a deal, then?"

"It's a deal." He pulled Dean's head down until their lips met, and Dean returned the kiss far more enthusiastically than he had when they had made their first deal. "I suppose I'd better get to work," Crowley said as he pulled away, taking a step back.

"How likely is it that you can get him out?"

"I'm not sure… I have an idea, and if it works out the way I'm thinking it will, I can get him out. If not, the deal will be cancelled, of course."

"You're coming back either way."

Crowley sighed. "Why do I feel like I'm the one under your control?"

Dean gave a small smirk and shrugged. "Should I go ahead and get a room?"

"If you'd like. But Dean, this is going to take more than just a few hours to work out. I'll be in touch within a week."

Dean nodded. "Right. Well, it's not like I have anywhere else to go. No point in trying to explain this to Bobby unless it works."

"Alright then, I'll see you back here within a week, with or without Sam."

"Good luck."


	6. Companion

Dean had trouble finding things to keep himself occupied in the following days. _'Crowley will save Sam, he'll get him back."_ He had to keep repeating the words to himself like a mantra, otherwise he would fall apart. It was a couple days later when Crowley appeared in the main room of the suite he was staying in, but Dean's eyes immediately went to the tall man by his side.

"Sam," he breathed, pulling his brother into a hug.

Sam's eyes were wide as he pulled back. "Dean, how…?" he trailed off, his gaze shifting between his brother and Crowley, becoming more accusatory. "What did you do?" he snapped. "Dean, you promised!"

"Look, it's not as bad as it seems!" Dean held his hands up defensively.

"So you _didn't_ make a deal, then?" he demanded dubiously.

"Well-well, _yes,_ but-"

"How does that help anything, Dean?" Sam shouted. "We're right back where we were two years ago!" He rounded on Crowley. "Let him out of his deal!"

Crowley's face was expressionless aside from a slight raising of his eyebrows. "No."

"Where's the knife, Dean?"

"I'm not giving it to you," Dean's voice was tired. He had known that this wouldn't be easy, but he still hadn't been quite prepared for _this._ "You're not killing him."

Sam looked at him incredulously. "Why not?"

"Well, for one," Crowley muttered. "Do you really think I'm going to stick around long enough for you to get your hands on that knife?" He peered around Sam to catch Dean's eye. "Dean, would it be better if I leave and come back later?"

"Why are you coming back?" Sam demanded before Dean could respond.

Crowley glared at him. "Maybe if you would let your brother actually explain his deal, you would know."

They both turned to look at Dean, who coughed uncomfortably. "Would you mind staying, Crowley?" He could use the support, even at the risk of his presence putting Sam even more on edge than he would be anyway.

Crowley sighed. "Yes, but for you, I will." He walked over and took a seat on the couch.

Sam followed Crowley's progress with narrowed eyes before turning back to Dean. "You had better have a good explanation."

Dean shrugged. "You might not think so, but I'm happy with it. Look, my deal with Crowley wasn't selling my soul, it was selling… me."

Sam's expression twisted in disgust. "Oh yeah, that makes it so much better. You sold _yourself_ to him? Does that mean what I think it does?"

"It doesn't mean anything, Sam, it's just a technicality."

"A technicality?"

"Yes. _Technically_ I belong to him, but he's not going to make me do anything I don't want to."

"You believe that? He's a demon!" Sam shook his head. "What happened to your promise, Dean? To settle down with the guy you were seeing?"

Crowley choked on the Scotch he had materialized. "You promised _what?"_

Dean ignored him. "Hey, the only thing that I promised was that I'd go to him. And I did."

"You did?"

"Yeah," he said matter-of-factly, gesturing towards Crowley. "And I asked him to save you." He braced himself for the fireworks.

It took Sam a few seconds to process, numbly looking between Dean and a slightly amused Crowley. Finally, his gaze settled on Dean, anger and disbelief in his eyes. _"Crowley?_ You're dating _Crowley?_ He's a _demon!_ What happened to everything you said when I was with Ruby? You hypocrite! All you could do was lecture me about how stupid I was being, and now you're doing the exact same thing!"

"Hey, I was right about Ruby-"

"I know! But that doesn't make it okay for you to make the same mistakes! You're _dating_ a _demon!"_

"Well, we were never technically dating," Crowley cut in. "I mean, now things are a little unclear, but in the beginning, it had just been a deal."

"But you just made the deal."

"Our second deal."

Sam rounded on Dean again, glaring furiously. "Dean?" he demanded, anger barely controlled.

"I-I made a deal to get you off demon blood…"

"When was this?"

"Right after Lucifer was released."

Sam stared at him in shock. "Were you ever going to tell me about this?"

Dean shook his head, his eyes downcast.

"Wait… so you knew Crowley before we got the Colt from him?"

"Yes, but before you ask, I didn't know his name; I didn't know he had the Colt."

"And that makes things so much better." He shook his head. "So all those times you were making excuses to leave, it was because he wanted sex, and that was your job?"

Dean hesitated. "In the beginning."

"But you can't make the same deal twice."

"No." Crowley stood, his empty glass disappearing, and walked over to them, his hands in the pockets of his coat. "I cancelled our first deal because you drank demon blood in order to accommodate Lucifer – a sort-of breach of the contract. Then Dean offered this deal."

"Okay," Sam huffed. "Dean, tell me if I'm reading this wrong, but this is what I'm getting. You made a deal with Crowley, started sleeping with him, developed Stockholm Syndrome, and because of that you've thrown yourself right back into the fire."

"I have not developed Stockholm Syndrome!"

Crowley looked at him sideways. "Are you sure?"

"Crowley!"

"It kind of makes sense."

"You're just saying that because you don't want me to have feelings for you. But if I had Stockholm Syndrome, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't still think you're a giant pain in the ass."

Crowley barely managed to hold back an amused smile. "Alright, _fine,_ it was just a thought."

Dean sighed, turning back to his brother. "Look, Sam, I was pretty damn reluctant when I went into this deal the first time around. But then it wasn't so bad – and not just because I enjoyed the sex, I enjoyed Crowley's company. I was in denial about it for a while _,_ but I eventually came to terms with it. It was the night before everything went down that I finally realized the full extent of my feelings for him."

"Which are?" Sam demanded coldly.

"I love him. And you know that's something I don't say lightly."

"Fine, you love him, I can believe that – I don't understand it, but I can see you're telling the truth. But there is no way that he feels the same. And if you think there's a chance, you're deluding yourself."

"Because you're an expert, are you?" Crowley demanded, the smallest traces of anger darkening his expression.

"There's no way that demons can love."

"Close. Demons _shouldn't_ love. Demons _try_ _not_ to love. It doesn't always work out. If you think office romances are a scandal, they have nothing on the romances in Hell."

"Are you trying to tell me that you love my brother?"

"No. I'm just trying to tell you that it is possible for demons to love. Which is unfortunate, really. Love is such a weakness, I mean, it's _embarrassing._ If you ask me, only half the demons who fall in love ever say anything for fear of becoming a laughing stock."

"So you don't love him."

"Did you listen to a word I just said? If a demon is smart, they never admit when they're in love. And I'm smart."

"Hm. Seems to me like a good way of getting out of answering my question."

Crowley's eyes narrowed. "Well then, it's a good thing I don't have to answer to you."

Sam's gaze snapped back to Dean. "Dean, are you seriously accepting this?"

"I…" Dean's eyes flickered between the two of them as he tried to sort through his thoughts. "I know he cares. And maybe it's not as much as I care about him, but one day it could be."

"Oh, right, and he already has you convinced that he never has to tell you just how he feels, so he can always make you think that he cares more than he does."

"You are really, truly awful at coming to your assumptions," Crowley sighed. "I am under the impression that Dean knows _exactly_ how much I care for him, despite my efforts to convince him that I care less."

Sam opened his mouth to say something – and judging by his bitch face, something rude – but Dean cut him off. "Crowley, I have no idea how much you care about me."

Crowley turned to him, blinking in surprise. "What?"

"All I know is that you care enough that it scares you and makes you want to distance yourself from me. That doesn't tell me anything."

 _"_ _How_ does that not tell you anything?"

"I don't know if that's love, or if just caring a little bit is enough to freak you out."

"But you _just_ said that you know I care some, and that's all that matters, right?" His expression was hopeful.

"Well… for now. But Sam's half right – it's going to grow old, never knowing how much."

"Oh, you have got to be-" He made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a growl as he turned back to Sam. "Can we have a minute?"

"I'm not leaving you two alone together!" Sam protested.

Crowley arched an eyebrow. "Really? Do you have any idea how much time we've spent alone together? And Dean is still in one piece."

"Sam, it's fine," Dean spoke in what he hoped was a soothing voice, bringing his hand up to rest on Crowley's back. "I know you think he's up to something, and in the beginning he most definitely was, but that's finished now. It's not like your thing with Ruby, but I don't know what to say to prove that to you. I just need you to trust me."

"I do trust you, Dean. It's him I don't trust. He's messing with you."

Crowley's eyes narrowed as he glared at Sam. "Do tell, moose, how exactly am I 'messing with him?'"

"I don't know, but you have to be somehow!"

"Sam, I swear on Hell itself that I am not using your brother in any way."

"Okay, but you clearly have no loyalty to Hell. You just helped us shove your boss back in the cage."

"Which opened up a position. You're looking at the new King of Hell."

 _"_ _What?"_ Dean snapped, rounding on the demon.

Crowley sighed. "Look, in order to get the power and leverage needed to get Sam from the cage, I had to take the throne. Admittedly, that had been my plan anyway, so it all worked out spectacularly."

"You rule Hell?"

"Yep." He turned back to Sam. "And I swear on _my_ kingdom that I am being honest here. Now let mummy and daddy talk."

Sam glared at Crowley for a moment longer before he turned to Dean with a sigh. "Let me know if you need me."

Dean nodded then Sam made his way to one of the bedrooms. Crowley waited until the door was shut behind him before turning his attention to Dean.

"So let me get this straight, you _beg_ me to have a relationship with you, go to the lengths of making another deal, and _now_ you're demanding to know the extent of my feelings?"

"Alright, first off, I did not _beg._ And second, it's not like you don't want a relationship, you just don't want to admit that you want one. You didn't have to agree to the deal, you know."

"Yes, but I wanted to help you, and… it was a good excuse." His eyes darted down as he trailed off.

"So you admit that you _do_ want this, then?"

Crowley ground his teeth together in frustration before reluctantly answering. "Yes, of course I want this!"

Dean smiled slightly as he reached out to rest his hands on Crowley's waist. "How much?"

Crowley glared up at Dean from under his eyelashes. "It's not like you can hold this over my head, squirrel. You want me, you've made that perfectly clear. It doesn't matter what I say."

"Yeah, but Crowley, I want this to actually _be_ something. It's not going to last if you're not honest with me about this."

"There's no way it's going to last, period. I'm a demon, the King of Hell, and you're a hunter. I see a bit of a conflict of interests here."

"Oh, what was it that you said to me before? That you don't do being on the losing side? Well, neither do I, apparently, so I'm not losing you. If we can a way to beat the devil again all odds, then we can find a way to make this work."

Crowley's lips were pulling up into a smile, something that he seemed to be struggling to fight against. "My, my, Dean, that was almost _sappy."_

"Shut up." He chuckled as he leaned down, brushing his lips lightly against Crowley's. "I'm not looking for any grand gesture on your part, I just want to know if you feel about me anything close to how I feel about you."

Crowley sighed, staring at the floor for a minute before his gaze slowly rose to meet Dean's. "I do… I-I feel _exactly_ the same."

Dean blinked in surprise, an awed smile spreading slowly across his face.

"Now don't you _dare_ tell anyone!" Crowley quickly added.

"Deal." Dean winked before leaning in for a kiss.


End file.
